Friday, June 29, 2012

Now that H had me bound to the bench, I could tell he wanted to take his time.

After every hit with the paddle he'd rub his other hand over my warmed skin. Massaging it. Playing with it.

Some smacks on the backs of my thighs made me want to arch my back, but I literally had no wiggle room. A sheen of sweat began to appear on my back. I was completely unable to guess where his next strike would be.

Finally after what seemed ages he asked me if I'd had enough.

"Yes", I whimpered.

The paddle hit the ground with a thud. And then I could hear the unmistakable sound of his pants opening.

No lead up...he placed his hands on my hips and slammed himself into me.
I screamed. God it felt good. Even as his fingers dug into my hips painfully, it felt exquisite.

After a few minutes H slowed down and untied me from the bench.

Slowly, he guided me to our bed and cut off all the rubber tape with a knife. Everything came off except the collar.

Tired and sweaty he laid down beside me and we rested for awhile.

When I turned to look at him he was smiling. I knew what he was thinking...I was thinking it too.

"Jeez, we're getting old" I said.

"Getting? We're there babe" he smiled.

The girls were going to be home soon. H cleaned up the living room and I put my nightshirt on.

By the time they came home, I was half asleep and H was watching wimbledon.

Later that night, H woke me up and slowly entered me from behind. This time taking his time. Just us. Even after 20 years it's still wonderful, he still makes me feel like no other.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

H had warned me ahead of time not to plan anything...he'd made plans and as soon as he'd shuttled(aka shoved) the girls out of the house, he announced it was date night.
Okay...

20 minutes later he popped into our bedroom.

"Do I need to change?" I asked. I was only wearing a t-shirt and undies.

"Nope" he smirked.

He grabbed my hand and escorted me to the dining room.
It wasn't until I attempted to sit at my regular seat(the chair to the right of the head of the table) that I noticed the table was only set for only one.

"No no, sit here" he motioned, and sat me at the head of the table.

He left for a moment and returned with my collar and wrist restraints.
Alrighty, I thought, dinner was going to be different tonight...very different.

I lowered my chin as he put on my collar. I noticed a bottle of my favorite Sauvignon Blanc.
After putting on my wrist restraints, he clipped them together behind the back of my chair. Now I understood the single place setting(I can be slow at times).

He came back from the kitchen with a plate of my favorite chicken salad....and began to slowly feed me. I have to confess by this time, I wasn't the least bit hungry. I was anxious to know what else was planned for the evening. I asked repeatedly but he wasn't giving anything up.

Two thirds thru dinner I told him I was stuffed.

He had me finish my glass of wine and then wiped my mouth with a napkin.
He then turned my chair towards him.

First came the blindfold...but I have to tell you this blindfold also covers my ears and makes it harder for me to hear.
He unclips my wrists and guides me to the living room.

"Kneel" he said.

As instructed I kneel and once again he clips my wrists together.
The first thing I notice is how rough our living room rug is...and I'm already thinking how bad the rug burn is going to be. Rug burn can really smart like the dickens.

He removes my shirt and applies the alligator clamps. Jeez, I forgot how much they can hurt. I breathe thru the pain and try to get comfortable.

I can hear some rustling and then he tells me he'll be right back.

And then it hits me....fuck. I don't want to be left alone. Logically I know I've nothing to fear. But clearly logic wasn't working, and I can feel panic starting to rise up my throat.

"Please don't leave me alone" I whisper. My insecurity embarrasses me. I'm trying to listen carefully. I feel the first pang of a panic attack. He returns just in time, thank god.

"You didn't think I was going to leave you, did you?" he asked.

"No, not really" I muttered.

Before I can give any thought about the panic attack, I can feel him wrapping my right leg with something...but what?

By the time he starts on my left leg I'm 99% sure he's wrapping me with our pink or purple plastic tape. It's on a roll like duck tape but it's not sticky...meant to tie someone up for fun/sex. Well, at least that's what we've always used it for.

But he's wrapping me up like a mummy. Legs, torso, but leaving my breasts free by criss-crossing the tape between them.
It's an interesting feeling and I'm sure I look like either a pink or purple mummy. I'm glad I'm blindfolded and can't see at this point...cause I'm sure I look down right ridiculous.

H sees the look on my face and whispers in my ear that I look beautiful. I highly doubt this but say nothing.

I can feel him position a pillow behind me and he lowers me back onto my elbows.

He removes my panties, and separates my legs. Yup, completely exposed, sprawled out on the living room rug. Good grief.

I start to wonder how long the girls will be gone when I feel his fingers start to play with me. Soon all thoughts are gone.

Really he's toying with me. I start to wiggle but he places his hand on my pubic bone and holding me down. With his other hand finds my g spot and he starts to rub. I squirm and moan. He knows exactly what he's doing and I'm loving it.

Just about when I think I'm going to come, he stops. What? Wtf?

He stands me up, I'm unsteady and at that moment breathing rather hard. He's saying something, but my mind is somewhere else.
Finally he takes one hand on my back and the other on my front...

"Lean over" he says.

I'm confused. Lean over what? He continues to lean me over. Finally my front comes in contact with some thing soft...pillows. He leaning me over the Chinese bench from the living room...he's placed pillows on it for comfort(I assume).

Once he has me positioned, each arm and leg are strapped to a corresponding bench leg. Hence, my bare ass is in the air. Not an unusual sight, but it's been awhile.

To be honest, I thought he was going to play with me then fuck me. But as the first thwap! hits my bare bum, I know he's got different ideas.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

H has stayed close these past few days. Keeping an eye on me, pulling me in close to tell me how much he loves me. Holding me tight, the tighter the better.

After therapy today I was weepy. He took me out for a late lunch and then drove me home and tucked me into bed.

It's true I often allow myself to get mired down with life, problems, people, etc...

Sometimes I wish there was a button on me that I could push that would bring me back to the present, remind me of all the good I have in my life.

Sadly, sometimes I need that constant reminder. My filter that keeps out the bad and unnecessary thoughts, isn't working properly right now. I'm not sure why, but with the help of H and my therapist we're trying to figure it out.

H knows me all too well when I'm like this, he keeps me close, watching carefully so I don't lose my step. Trip up and fall.

He knows where my head goes. I worry that I'm too much work for him. Too high maintenance. Too needy.
But he reminds me he loves me this way...just the way I am...fucked up neediness and all.

Monday, June 25, 2012

H and I have stayed up till 3am the last three nights in a row discussing it at length. We're not as young as we used to be and our asses have been dragging all weekend.

It's hard for me to wrap my head around what it means to love another unconditionally.

Perhaps because of my beginnings, my childhood, it's made me doubt whether unconditional love for another is possible. I don't know for sure but I suspect that's the case.

If there ever was an unconditional love, it would have to be what a mother feels for her child.

I feel that for my children. How can I not? They are a piece of me. No matter what their faults, what their crimes I'd never stop loving them.

So when H looks at me...sees my faults, knows my sins and loves me still, how can I doubt him when he says he loves me unconditionally?

Well I did. I did doubt him...

Then over this weekend, H laid me out on our bed and opened me up. Over several hours each nite he pulled out all my faults...my transgressions...everything...and then told me he loves me still. Has loved me always.

I can't even put into words the depth of feelings he elicited from me. My body feels like it has been crying for three straight days.

I felt so raw and open those two nights. Everything inside of me hurt.

And then finally last night he began to put me back together. Reminding me every bit of the way that he loves me...unconditionally.

I think I'm starting to believe him...and it feels like nothing I've known before.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

You'd never think I could write a full post about how tired I am. But seriously I could.

I dream so much. Always have.

Last night I dreamt I walked all over the City(I dream about the City often). I was looking for a piece of stolen furniture. I'll have to look that one up to analyze, because it was so surreal.

It was an antique Chinese alter table. Now who stole it, I'm not sure...but it took my whole dream to find it. With the help of this sweet Japanese girl, we found the piece in an out of the way antique shop between 39th & 40th ave.

Now if you know the City that's way out in the sunset district. The likelihood of an antique store way out there is a little unlikely.

After I found it, the rest of the dream was waiting on my father to show up to retrieve the piece of furniture. He needed directions, and here is where the dream turned into a nightmare.

I couldn't remember his phone number(a common element in my dreams) and he didn't understand my directions...which is weird because the man had the most unbelievable sense of direction. Thankfully I got that trait from him.

The more I tried to give him directions the angrier he got, hence the more frustrated I got...and scared. He rarely ever became truly angry in real life.

I felt horrible.

I woke up sooo tired and achey. Like I'd walked all night...and I did...in my dream.

Sometimes I wish I could just have a nice sex dream...but those are few and far between, darn it.

At least if I woke up tired from a great sex dream I'd feel like I accomplished something.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

All was going really well. Managed to pick up some super cute new summer shoes! Pick up pretty new mixing bowls for the kitchen.
Really had nothing to complain about. H was particular mellow and quite pleasant actually. (the monkeys are taking him to the Giants game tomorrow for Father's Day---he's a very happy H).

While waiting the the pharmacist to fill some prescriptions, H overheard the pharmacist assistant say she could give me an 'emergency fill' because I actually had no refills remaining for my thyroid medication.
I smiled and thanked her.
All of a sudden H leans in and semi-whispers in my ear, "that's strike number two little lady, wanna go for number three?"

Gasp. Number two? Wait, what was number one?!?

I could tell by his look, he was serious. I suddenly felt like a chastised little girl. My stomach fell.

We were still supposed to go for an nice early dinner, but suddenly I wasn't so hungry.

H was still looking at me rather pissed.

It took me awhile to register what was wrong. No matter how smart I might think I am, sometimes I can be rather slow.

Duh. The thyroid meds. The doctor said I can't ever skip a day. If I hadn't let it go till the last day, on a Saturday no less, the pharmacist wouldn't be having to give me an emergency fill for a couple days.

A few months ago, I'd forgotten to pick up my refill and ended up missing 2 days. H was furious when he found out. You would think I'd learned my lesson...or at least remember to pick up my meds on my own. ;)
Apparently, that was strike number one. Today was number two.

H then proceeded to talk to me as if I was 2. I was just thankful no one but the pharmacist overheard.

"Do I need to take control of your medication too?"

Now, I'm not about to argue with him, but really he already controls most of my other medications because I've proven myself "irresponsible"...i.e. not remembering times and days. My thyroid medication is truly one of the few meds he doesn't monitor.

If I'm honest with myself, I like that he has that control. I know he cares about my health and well being.

I don't like that he's disappointed and upset at me. That part I could do without.

Now physical punishment has never been part of our dynamic.

Secretly though, I sometimes wish it was, at least that way my guilt might be somewhat assuaged.

Even though it felt wrong, when H whispered in my ear my indiscretions, and appeared to be threatening punishment, my arousal felt so much stronger than my guilt.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

In the flurry of all the hullabaloo I heard a few whispered snippets of conversations between H and our oldest's Godfather. Too busy to give them much thought I pushed those overheard words into the back of my mind. Way back. They were too much to even consider with a houseful of family and friends. But I heard them all the same.

As a child I dreamed of houses with white picket fences. No doubt my years in foster care & group homes; being moved around with no sense of home, made my dreams of a forever home all the more vivid. Necessary.

Surprisingly in the last 20 years, I've lived the life of a gypsy...not alone of course, but with H and our 2 monkeys.

I don't know what changed my dream of white picket fences, but somehow something changed inside me. We've moved often, never staying one place too long. Perhaps, moving around during those formative years engrained itself in my being. Maybe I am a gypsy after all.

These last 7 years in the Pacific Northwest have been our longest stay anywhere...by a good 3 years.

So when I heard cities and countries being mentioned earlier this week, of course I thought, here we go again.

But that antsy feeling I'd get when we've lived somewhere 2 years didn't happen and still hasn't. I don't feel ready to move yet, I'm really liking it here.

H is trying to dangle a few carrots(countries) in front of me. I see through his ruse. He knows my weaknesses.

Although I know the final decision doesn't lie with me, I know he'd rather me be on board with such a life changing decision.
Ultimately he wants me to be happy too.

I wonder which way the wind is going to blow this summer...and whether we'll be changing direction with it.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

We're down to just one house guest. This time tomorrow we'll be down to none. Woohoo!!

The MIL left this morning. As soon as she was off to the airport, I laid my head on my pillow and slept for six hours. I was so tired and my muscles finally just gave out.

Monkey #1's graduation was a success. Even the rain held off till the very end.
Afterwards, she ran off to celebrate grad nite out on the Sound with 300+ kids on a cruise ship while the rest of us went out to Thai food. Yummy!

After picking her up at the ferry at 5:30am the next morning, we let her sleep for 6 hours before we met everyone for a lovely graduation brunch.

All weekend I'd been doing my best to be amenable towards the MIL.
But geez, she makes it so hard. It's been 7+ years since her last 1.5-2 day visit. I guess I'm blessed she doesn't visit often or for very long. Still it's amazing how stressful those visits can be regardless.

Over brunch, I heard her talking with my mother. I only caught bits and pieces of the conversation...tried my best to tune her out.
Later, in the car, my mother told me that she(the MIL) "holds my mother responsible" for us(H & i) getting married. That she felt my mother had pushed us to marry. Can I just say now...WTF?

My mother took it in stride and laughed at such a silly statement/accusation. Saying that she had nothing to do with our wedding...and really she didn't. By the time we married, we'd been living together for four years. Marriage was very much on the radar.

It's too bad that she feels she has to hold other people responsible for her son's decisions. Perhaps it makes her feel better thinking that...I don't know.

What I do know is H has always made his own decisions. Never consults with anyone. He's a no nonsense kinda guy and once a decision has been made, that's it. He never waivers, or if he does, He doesn't show it, or I just don't see it.

H was aware that his mother(and father) were not happy about his impending marriage to me. Apparently they made that clear just prior to me walking down the isle. Of course I knew none of this at the time. H has confessed his biggest regret was telling me(a few years later) that they tried to talk him out of it at the very last minute.
I wasn't surprised that they disliked me but it hurt to know the lengths they went to get H to change his mind. H thought it was all rather funny(in a sick way) but when he saw how hurt I was after telling me, he instantly regretted telling me.

Ultimately this is what makes her visits so unpleasant and stressful for me. That after nearly 20 years of marriage she still seems to hope that H will come to his senses at divorce me. That i still don't measure up to her standards. This of course, is just my opinion.

My feelings are still hurt, even after all these years.

The only bright side to this fiasco is that we won't see her for another 7+ years.

Maybe the explanation is as simple as... that I'm a crazy Californian girl and he's a mid-western boy.

I guess I'll never truly know why she dislikes me so. But she sure does, and that's the truth.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

It was a particularly hard session with the therapist today. Lots a tears.

So much is going on with monkey's graduation, out of town guests flying in, H's three hour MRI yesterday.
It's been a lot to handle.

As normal, I'm internalizing it all and it's coming out as queasiness x1000 with a migraine that's just sitting behind my eyes. Actually threw up at the hospital yesterday while waiting for H to finish up his brain MRI. Managed to make it to the bathroom in time.

I've barely eaten anything since last Friday.

All this and I also managed to alienate a follow blogger...which is a first for me.

We'd emailed each other a bit but I knew it was only a matter of time before I stuck my foot in my mouth but good.

Now there's this unbelievably loud silence.
I thought at the very least we could be blogger friends. It hurts a bit knowing someone out there doesn't even want to speak to you.
Still not sure what I did to deserve the zero communication edict.

And because we really don't know one another, I can only speculate that my perceived craziness scared said blogger away...for good.

I am a wee bit crazy. A bit quirky too. But by no means did I mean to offend.
If I did, I'm truly sorry. If its because I comes across as a lunatic...well I can't help that.
Most people who know me say I have a good heart. I try.

I see my therapist again next Tuesday and by then all our house guests will have flown home.

I suspect I'll have lots to talk through and hopefully any weekend drama will have been small and manageable. At the very least I'm sure there will be some entertaining moments.